Boyd had surgery at the end of the last school year to remove his tonsils and adenoids. He hasn't been the same since. He began getting more and more antsy and he just wasn't his normal goofy self. School ended and I was sure that everything would get back to normal during the summer. I signed him up for summer school and swimming lessons. What a fun summer we had planned. His anxiety was still creeping up to the surface when summer started. He stopped wanting to go down the hall to the bathroom alone. Then grandma Anna died. His smoochy smoochy, lipstick kissing, Boyd and papaw help her around the house, great and wonderful great grandma. His world was kicked out from under him. He has a hard time understanding his emotions and he certainly had a few. At first he just didn't have any reaction (typical with aspy kids). Then it all hit him at once. He hasn't been able to find his footing. He stopped going to his room alone, didn't want to sleep in there alone and finally started sneaking into our room to sleep on the floor every night. He refused to go to the bathroom alone and would pee his pants if we didn't take him.
Slowly his anger began to build. He started calling me names. I was no longer mom, mommy, woman who gave birth to him. I was idiot, ugly, fat, stupidhead. According to him I can do nothing right. Where did my sweet boy go? He would just lose it and lash out. Usually for no reason other than I used my vocal chords. The days were stressful. I was constantly walking on eggshells around him. He was just so unhappy. By the time it was time to start summer school I was ready. Goodness gracious I needed the 4 hour break. We pulled up to the school, he was fidgety. We went inside and he told me he didn't want to stay. I told him I would stay until it started and we could see what it was all about. We went outside to play with the other kids while waiting for the day to start. He didn't want to leave my side. The bell rang and it was time to go in. We followed the other kids for the first day assembly and he was sitting on the floor with the other kids. I looked over and he was holding his ears and rocking back and forth. Then he started breathing very fast and heavy. They were calling kids into their class lines. He stood up and just looked so far away. I went over to him and he was in a full blown panic atack. The first one ever. He wanted to leave. I was trying to get him out of there and all the teachers surrounded us trying to get him to stay, making it worse. I took him to the doctor.
Summer school.... epic failure.
Instead of fun trips to the zoo, summer school and other fun things, the remainder of our summer was spent at doctors, trying this drug and that, this strength, that strength. I finally got him a referral to a neuropsychiatrist. For November 26th. That is how long the wait is for this 8 hour appointment. Most days I wonder to myself how we will make it until then.
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